


Beautiful Colors

by kurofu



Series: Writing Exercises [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Magic Duels, POV First Person, POV Outsider, Same era Tom & Harry, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-10 19:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurofu/pseuds/kurofu
Summary: Writing Exercise 2: First POV (Guess the POV)Magical duels between the Head Boy and the Gryffindor Quidditch captain in a shadowed corridor of Hogwarts.And the secret, hidden historian who records their moments during them.





	Beautiful Colors

I see them. 

I know, I know. I know that it’s rude of me, creepy too. I could be punished by the headboy because of it, but. But I can’t help it.

In the dark hallways, where moonlight rarely shines, they dance to a tune unknown to everyone but them. Sometimes with muggle means, hand in hand, chest to chest, swaying in the night. Other times its with wands, beautiful, colorful spells lighting up the shadowed night. 

Cyan blue, coral pink, marigold yellow.

Their hues and radiance flashing as they whizz by, some deflected and striking the grounds, the colors showing their true purpose there. The blue-white ones spreading ice, the light green spitting pools of acid, the burning orange alighting spirals of deadly fires. 

Some struck true towards their mark, yet barely still, as they flare up on invisible shields. *Ping! Ping! Ping!* Rang the translucent shields when they absorbed the spells, the large diameter of it coloring in various areas before fading back to colorless, protecting their castor within.

I watched them long enough to know what the colors meant. The maize-white, solid shields with limited strength, the sky-blue one flexible, capable of stretching to a large radius, but paper thin, the lilac purple that grows darker with each spell it consumes before, at last, it spits out each and everyone with potent speed back towards their caster.

If it was possible of me, I would ask my mother, who was a physicist in her spare times, the possibilities of magic and the real world. But she is no longer, and my father takes care of me and my brother with each bottle of dairy he sells.

Their magic is powerful. Equally unparalleled by anyone but each other, especially not with the likes of us in school. Their growth shows no sign of stopping, and I doubt anyone would ever try to–-I was a witness to the birth of legends. 

But even legends would crack, especially from fatigue, and tonight was no exception.

I saw green eyes widen, his body growing tense, as a wide-spray, blade-like, light grey spell collided with his shield, a bright light flaring from the impact. He crossed his arms across his face, bracing himself as the shield cracked. His wand slipping from his grip and falling to the floor with a resounding, finalizing echo. The magic fractured, splitting–-slow at first, thin, hair-like lines appearing before they spread like lightning, both in speed and appearance. It didn’t take long for the whole shield to be covered, yet it didn’t fall right away. 

A beat, and another–-just enough for me to take this perfect shot, a beautiful one–-then the shield finally fell. Falling like snowflakes with the glitter of glass and the shine from fading magic.

It was beautiful, so very beautiful. I’m envious of them that they can produce such beautiful scenes for me, but if they didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to capture these moments. 

I take a last one, sealing this beautiful, colourful memory into muggle means. A frozen moment: the headboy prowling towards his equal with a heated gaze, body seductive and tense, predatory. 

God bless that I had invested on a non-flash camera last year, and now this roll, amongst many others hidden in the depths of my trunk, would be produced by my own hand once when I get home. I pray, I pray to dear Lord, that no one would find them, these beautiful, colourful scenes that were meant for no-one’s eyes. 

Especially not mine, but I would risk it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this. It was fun to write despite it being in first person...
> 
> so...since AO3 doesn't allow me to post my Tumblr link for some reason, I'm coffee-teacup on there. Come poke me and say Hi.


End file.
